


Pure Morning

by KathyBoug



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Angst, Death Threats, Drama, Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Heartbreak, LMAO, M/M, Mental Illness, Mental Instability, OOC, Smut, Suicide Threats, but because i wrote this to get my emotions out, it's also pretty personal but rEITUCK, not because it's complicated, or something like that, reita being kind of an ass, ruki getting dumped, so a warning about that, trigger warning, tw, you might not understand everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 20:17:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11409456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyBoug/pseuds/KathyBoug
Summary: Ruki would never get over this, he knew. He got too attached too quickly. He feels like his life is empty, and there is no one he can fight the emptiness with.





	Pure Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Ayee I think I'll be writing a fanfic each summer lmao. The name is pure morning because I was writing this while listening to placebo and stuff. I wrote this just to get some emotions out, because shit happening, but not like I wrote exactly what's going on in my life, I wrote an angsty reituki shit,,, everything just inspired me aND THERE U GO!!!! Warning ya that this is mostly of how I view stuff,, and that's how some stuff may seem kinda uhh. I'll give a cookie to whoever guesses what kind of mental disorder is Ruck supposed to have! ok I hope you like it at least a lil bit because I wrote it in less than a day.

"...—sbonsibility, stop taking it lightly."

 Takanori looked up, confused. Had he been spacing out again? He didn't hear a thing. "Excuse me, what?" he asked, tired of trying to sound polite. He hadn't been paying attention. How could he ask his employer to repeat himself again, just because he hadn't been listening, politely? 

 The older man looked at him in exasperation; certain that this wasn't the way a conversation worked. "I said you should get sorted out whatever has been bothering you. You haven't been focused at all lately, and this project was your responsibility" he lectured, pointing a finger at him. His tone had been taut, and it made Takanori flinch. "I understand you go through some things right now, but I need you to get it together. I appreciate your work overall, but I can't have someone who doesn't get the job done in my workplace."

He seemed annoyed, his silky black hair tied up in a ponytail. Yuu was always friendly, so maybe he had overdone it. He felt bad for making him angry, his eyebrows knitted together and a frown replacing the honest smile that was always covering his face.

 At that, Takanori's brown eyes adjusted on the floor, his teeth dragging on his bottom lip. He preferred it when he was just spacing out. Getting reminded of everything even like this was breaking him. He looked back up slowly, dark eyes full of sadness. He seemed hesitant as he put a strand of his curly locks behind his ear. 

 "I'm really sorry, sir. I promise that I'm going to be completely back after the weekend. Forgive me" he croaked, and with that, Shiroyama huffed and left his office. 

 The brunette sighed in relief and looked outside of the window. He chewed on his pencil, biting it between his plump lips. How was he going to get over it? This whole thing was slowly ruining him. It was ruining his job, it was ruining his life, was ruining him psychologically, mentally, physically. He couldn't remember the last time he ate a proper meal, only maybe a few snacks here and there. His mother kept on calling him to see if he ate anything at all, after she was informed by his friend and coworker about his state. Yet, he didn't have anyone that really understood him. He was trying to fill the void in his broken little heart, acting as if everything was alright, but it wasn't. And no one could really understand that. 

 It was better this way, they said. This relationship wasn't healthy, they said. People come and go, they said. That's how life is, they said. You'll find someone better, they said. 

 He didn't want to. He didn't want to wait for someone that... That matched him just so perfectly. That understood him like that. That he could share everything with. 

 But it was all a lie, right? An illusion. **Fake.** That's what he said anyway. 

  _"I don't want to have to care all the time. I don't want to bother and put so much effort into something. I can't handle your attitude and I don't want to try it anymore; I've felt so much better since we stopped talking. We can't be liked by everyone in our life, after all."_

 Was that really it? After everything? And why now? If he had such a problem with him for so long, why not tell him right away?

 He didn't notice when tears started flowing down his face. He didn't want to admit it; that he had become this attached to him. That he depended on him. That he needed him, and that this feeling hadn't been mutual from the start. 

 He quickly wiped his moist eyes, grabbing a tissue to blow his nose. He walked to his office's bathroom and threw it away, before washing his face. He couldn't let them see he had been crying again. He could already hear the whispers as he walked through the walls. 

 He put his things back in his bag, and walked out of the office. He looked at the assistant and smiled faintly, as fake as it could be. "Tell () I'm heading out for today. I'll have the project ready by Monday," he informed her, before walking out, leaving the building. He took the bus, taking a random seat by the window. He put earphones on, dissociating himself from his surroundings. He looked outside, trying to hold back more tears. He couldn't cry now. Not in public. 

 After fifteen long minutes on the bus, he finally got off on his stop, a two minutes walk from his apartment. He didn't realize when he reached the building, unlocked the doors and got on his bed. He looked at the ceiling with empty eyes, unable to feel something. 

 'After all' he started thinking, closing his eyes, 'it's all my fault.'

  _"I'm tired of you losing your temper for the littlest things. I'm tired of you ignoring me whenever I try to ask you what's going on, and I hate myself for ever apologizing to you. I'm tired of you. Get over it."_

 Those harsh words angered him this time. He didn't feel sad, just angry. _When did you try asking me what's going on? I've been going through everything all on my own lately, because I don't want to burden you. I haven't told you anything that has been bothering me in months because I didn't want to trouble you, because you had your own problems. When did you apologize to me because I was irritated by something lately? Never. You ignore it. Ignore it and act as if it never happened. And I roll with it, because I feel I'm wrong. Because I always feel that way. You always tell me that, so I've believed it. I have believed that I'm always wrong, my brain is wrong. But it never bothered me. If it meant having you with me, it didn't matter. You were enough for me._

 Those thoughts soon took another turn. He sat up on the bed now, looking at nothing, welling up. He hugged his knees to his chest, and buried his face in them. He was pathetic, wasn't he? Even after all this...

 He was so desperate, wasn't he? Trying to keep him from leaving, so many times. Each fight they ever had, had ended with him apologizing, with him making an attempt with them to talk again. With the topic switching to **him** completely, completely ignoring what had ever hurt Takanori in the first place. 

 While he knew that should be reason enough for him to move on now, it wasn't. Even now, again and again, he tried to get in contact with him, to make him forgive him. But it wasn't about something he did this time. It never was. It was about who he was. 

 Sobs started echoing in his small apartment, and his threw his pillows on the floor with force, his eyes red yet again. He needed to find a way to feel better. But nothing ever worked.

He was sick. Deep inside, he had always known that. He knew something had been wrong with his mentality, with how he got attached to someone so quickly, so easily, and couldn't stop it even when he was clearly told that this feeling was one sided. When he had understood fully that this was temporary. That when the chance would be given, the other would leave him. He knew that. Yet it didn't make things easier.

He knew, that no one would ever need him. That no one would want to ever be with him for real, that no one would stay til the end after they got to know him. That he wasn't enough, that he was worthless. He was just something consumable, fun to have for some time, but not enough to care too much.

He wasn't beautiful anyway, he wasn't like anyone cool he ever knew. He had always been compared with others, again and again. But when he was compared to her this one last time... It hurt. He knew that, deep inside, Akira had always been comparing him with her. She was nothing like him. She was exactly what the blond had ever wanted, calm, intelligent, beautiful. Indifferent about nearly everything, selfish. That was probably why they made such a good match, right? 

_"How about... I sleep over tonight? I don't have much to do anyway, if you're not busy" he giggled, already aware of the answer. Still, he liked teasing him. Besides, they had already agreed on that.  
_

_"Are we going to go through this again? Alright" droned the blond, grabbing his petite boyfriend from the waist and pressing him against his body, raising him up just a little. He blew against his neck noisily, making the boy giggle again. "My door is always open to your gorgeous ass" he grinned, receiving a soft slap on his shoulder by Takanori as he let him go.  
_

_"So only my ass can come? Okay, I'll be making sure to mail it to you" he teased, mocking disappointment and turned to leave, yet he was grabbed by the wrist and pulled right back in the other's arms.  
_

_"I guess, you can bring the rest of you as well" he didn't get a chance to retort, since his lips were shut by a passionate kiss._

The more he thought back to everything, the less sense it made. Was it all just an act? Could it all be so easily irrelevant because of how he was? If only he had been better at acting. At pretending. Everything would had been fine, then.

He wouldn't had lost the only person he ever cared so much about. He knew that he should be relieved that such a person was taken away from him, that such a superficial relationship ended. Because for him, it had been everything. The blond had been everything. Even if he was rarely there for him, he was still there. Even if for him, he meant nothing, **they** meant nothing, it didn't matter. It didn't matter to him. It never really had.

_Takanori snuggled up to the older man, nuzzling his neck, his eyes not leaving the screen. He loved watching movies with him. They always made stupid jokes about it all, exchanged puns. "I'm getting sleepy" he whined, basically asking for attention. The other glanced down at him, humming._

_"Is the movie I chose that boring?" he questioned, faking to be hurt. He sighed disappointed._

_Instead, the brunette chuckled and sat up, before moving to sit on  his boyfriend's waist. "It's alright, I guess. But you're better" he smiled, closing his eyes as warm hands went up his sides, caressing his body. He felt precious right then. Important._

He has been so desperate after that talk, he lost every last bit of pride he had been left. He had made a fool of himself, begging for him to give him another chance, to try again, please please please. He knew that, part of him wanted that so he'd feel relieved. So this sadness, this anger, this emptiness would disappear. So he would be able to focus again. But he had been rejected, again and again.

In the worst way at that. 

 

He wondered, was he so worthless he didn't even deserve some clarity? Honesty? Akira had never been honest with him. He never told him something bothered him. One day, he just decided he had enough and left him. Something he had always been afraid of happening.

He had been willing to change. For him, he kept trying to get better, to improve. Because he knew at some point, he had indeed been wrong. But his tries were never appreciated. The man he depended so much on had only been pointing out his flaws each time, not recognizing at all his improvement. Always telling him what was wrong with him. Just like that, each fight destroyed him a little more. But he didn't care. It didn't matter. 

In the end, he realized he was the only one trying. Sure, the other had improved a great deal too from since they first met. But after some point in time, he stopped trying. He stopped caring. He left him battling with his demons all on his own, fighting to stop being what he was, because it was all wrong. Because no one would ever like that.

_Akira was moving between his legs, grabbing on his thighs for better leverage. The way he touched him, moved inside him, made him throw his head back, closing his eyes in ecstasy._

_It hadn't been too hard to make him turn the TV off. A couple of rolls of his hips and the blond had him pinned against the mattress. He buried his hands into the bleached strands, pulling lightly just so he'd regain some of his composure. His lips were parted, and quiet moans, mewls and whispers fell from them, his legs wrapped around Akira's waist.  
_

_It wasn't his fault the blond found everything on him so tempting._

_"You're so damn good, Taka" the husky voice in his ear made him shiver, and he stopped restraining his breathy moans. He knew the other appreciated them, and he wanted to please him as much as possible. He deserved it, after all the pleasure he had offered him._

_He loved being intimate with him. He felt really, truly loved then. Because his boyfriend leaned down to press their lips together so gently, he felt butterflies in his stomach. Even if he was practically filled so deliciously with the other, this sort of kisses made his knees go weak, made him lose his mind._

  _After they both rode their orgasm out, he panted, opening his eyes to look lovingly at the other. He cupped his cheek, smiling. "I love you"._

 For the third time that day, tears were streaming down his face. He had tried to talk to more people now. People he always put aside for Akira, because he never wanted to talk to anyone else. He had tried talking with so many of them, and they were all so good and kind, but never enough. They weren't _him_. They didn't have that connection. 

 He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and looked at his phone. Messages from **that** guy again. He had messaged him first time in a year or something right after he broke up with Akira. He had needed him, because he had always been so easy to talk to. They had fought badly a year ago, but once he texted him, it all went smoothly. 

 He was flirting with him, sometimes discreetly, other times bluntly. Part of him enjoyed it, enjoyed feeling wanted. But again... He knew he was going to do something stupid, something rush, if they were given the chance. And he knew he was going to regret it, and that it would be all just to get over Akira. 

 He screamed, feeling overwhelmed. He couldn't do it anymore. He was tired of these mood swings, he was tired of needing someone so desperately, tired of never being enough and being left behind. Tired of being the only one to care. 

 He had mentioned dying, when he tried to get him back. He had been desperate, crying uncontrollably as he asked whether would he even care if he died. And the only response he got was that this was a paranoia and this conversation couldn't go on anymore, it was pointless. 

 In reality, he kept thinking about it. Kept thinking that maybe, if he killed himself, the blond would actually care. What if he wouldn't? He wanted to know. Maybe, if he just got sent to the hospital. Maybe if someone hurt him really badly, he'd show interest. If he got in a car accident? He kept hoping something would happen to him. He knew it wasn't healthy, or normal. But he couldn't stop his thoughts. He needed that.

He remembered when they first met. At first, he had been completely indifferent, showing how Takanori wad nothing compared to him. And little Takanori, like the idiot he was, fell for him just like that. He was impressed by him, by his beauty, by how popular he was. His aura had been something else. He had never imagined that just a couple of years later, he'd be so intimate with him. Oh how lucky he thought he was. 

 But it was all gone. It was gone, and it was his fault, wasn't it? Because his mind was sick. Who would want to be with someone sick in the head? No one wanted someone schizophrenic. Why would this be any different? 

 He walked to his window, opening it. The view wasn't something special, but at night he loved looking at the stars. The area he was living in wasn't too crowded, so some stars were visible. The night was always beautiful. The day sucked. 

 He climbed on the window, watching a dog running in the street. His apartment wasn't too high up the building, but it wasn't first floor. Below him, there was grass, grass that was naturally grown around the building. He looked up again, sighing. He thought back to the first time they talked. It had been a while after meeting each other, since they met as coworkers but they weren't really working together. The first time they talked, it had been because Takanori hadn't seen him. He wondered later on, how could he not see him? The blond was dazzling, his aura so dominant. It was hard not to see him. 

  _"Hey" a smoky, hoarse voice seemed to scold him, as he bumped into a person, dropping all of his papers._

  _"I'm s-sorry! I didn't see where was I-I going!" Takanori stammered,, in a quavering tone, bending over to collect the fallen papers. They were all sketches he had been doing for the project, and he needed to get them to the employer right away. He hadn't been careful, since he was in a hurry._

  _He looked up as the other figure bend over to help him with his papers. The second he laid his eyes upon him, he recognized him. Suzuki Akira. The one everyone wanted to hung out with. The one everyone liked._

  _"Don't worry about it. Work has been stressing these days, you're probably tired" the blond observed, giving the papers back to the other and standing up. "Akira, by the way. I'll see you around at lunch, gorgeous" he winked, before strolling off, probably to return to his work._

 That quick dialogue had been enough for Takanori's heart to beat faster. And now, he regretted sitting with Akira at lunch later that day. He would had avoided so much pain if he hadn't accepted the invitation.

* * *

 

When he woke up, he looked around. He felt like he never fell asleep, feeling tired to the bone. He hadn't even covered himself up with a blanket, and he slept in his clothes. He took a deep breath before getting up, and making some coffee. He knew it wasn't right to drink coffee with an empty stomach, and he couldn't remember if he ate the night before, but he didn't have an appetite. But he craved for coffee. He'd pass out without it.

Before he knew it, he was at work again. He had to finish a couple of things, so he would start the project at last. He was feeling indifferent about everything at that moment, and all the exhaustion was catching up to him. _I just want to go home,_ he kept on thinking. After all it wasn't Monday yet. He didn't feel any better, but he couldn't skip work for the rest of the week.

 He was lost in thought, trying to figure out what was it that he would distract himself with that day. Friends? Work? Maybe family? Still, the phone in his back pocket kept reminding it, there was still a way to contact him. There was still a way to try again. Maybe after so much begging, he would forgive him? He had messaged him again last night after all. He was weak.

 He had just been wanting to know how was he. Of course, he didn't receive a response, but he still had hope. Maybe a simple 'fine'? Was he asking for too much?

 He had been walking through the halls, taking his sketch book to mister Shiroyama in order to ask his opinion on a couple of things, when he felt his shoulder bumping into another one, making him drop the book. 

 He felt grateful when the figure bend over to give him his book. He didn't have any power left in him to do that.

 "Thanks" he muttered, reaching out to take the book from a pair of unknown hands. He didn't even bother to look up, to look at that person.

 "It's nothing. It was my fault, after all" there was a soft laugh, and that appealing voice made him look up reluctantly. The second he did, he regretted it.

 "I'm Yutaka, by the way. I'm new here. Maybe I'll see you at lunch? I need someone to show me around" the man chuckled, smiling brightly. His features were soft, and his eyes sympathetic. Takanori stared at him through his dark-colored bangs, feeling his cheeks flushing up instantly. He knew what this was. He knew that maybe with that, he would prove he never learned. But his heart was screaming at him, screaming for some comfort. And for some reason, it was hoping that this man here would be the one to mend it back together. He stared some more, noticing how the smile on Yutaka's face never wavered.  After a long pause, he cracked a faint smile of his own.

"Sure."

**Author's Note:**

> PSSSSS THAt's some dark shit. I was tempted to end with a suicide but I decided not to have too much drama. Instead, I ended it even worse, on my opinion. Idk if some of you feel like you can relate to any of this, if you do, man. Who hurt u. ANYWAY this got me in the mood of writing tho so maybe I will??? Continue writing?? I don't know if the rest of the stories I'll write will be more fluff and stuff but yeahh we'll see <3 THANKS FOR READING MY BULLSHITTT


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